


Color

by ZenlessZen



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cherish it, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, It's somewhere between fluff and angst, It's the best I can do, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self-Acceptance, This fandom is getting from me, this is the closest thing to fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenlessZen/pseuds/ZenlessZen
Summary: His Eyes.The Cigarette.The Dandelions.The Envy.The Suit.The Scarf.Together.





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> Contribution for Juzen week. Tune in for one fic a day.

Zen’s eyes were the most startling shade of red Jumin had ever seen. They also were very easy to read. Jumin couldn’t understand how the man could act, if he was that easy to read. He sat in the booth of the theater, scruffing the red floor with his shoes. Assistant Kang had raved about Zen multiple times. Was Zen really that good? The curtains drawn over the stage began to open.

His red eyes were astonishing

They held so much passion from the moment he started his monologue. His heart was beating wildly. What was this feeling? He stared at Zen. His eyes were readable. But they weren't showing his emotions. They were showing his character’s emotions and Jumin could finally see how those eyes played to his advantage. It was like the breath was stolen from his lungs. 

He could barely pay attention to the plot. He was just waiting for Zen to come on stage. And his voice. Oh god that voice. It was filled with emotions that Jumin couldn’t recognise. Half of him wished he could let go, just like Zen was doing. He wished he had an outlet. Then maybe the threads in his head could unravel and he’d be human again. He watched as Zen crumpled to the floor abruptly in the middle of his song, the sudden lack of his voice snapping Jumin’s eyes to the scene. Crimson stained the front of his costume 

The blood matched his eyes

Zen was dying on stage. And something inside Jumin lurched. What on earth? He wasn’t even dying for real. Why was he growing so attached? He couldn’t understand. He could hear people sniffling beneath him. Was it normal? He felt so conflicted until he noticed Zen’s red eyes staring up at him. A flicker of recognition shot through them.

“Goodbye.” He said, and his head rolled back. Jumin’s heart stuttered in his chest and he could feel one lonely tear, tracing it’s way down his cheek. The curtains began to close.

Still Jumin had yet to see eyes that shone brighter than Zen’s. That performance moved him, in a way he didn’t know how to deal with. He sat quietly in his armchair, gazing at the city stretched out before him. Elizabeth the Third purred in his lap. Jumin took a sip of his wine glass, running his hand through her soft white fur. 

And quietly, so no one could hear, he began to sing.


	2. Orange

Jumin almost missed the cigarette hanging out of Zen’s mouth, the glow mixing in with the setting sun. Almost, but the puffs of smoke in the air were a dead give away. Zen was leaning on the railing of the balcony. He had loosened his cravat and Jumin wished he was good at taking pictures. The light illuminated half of his face making him look like he was sent from heaven. Jumin had long come to terms with his feelings for Zen. Zen, unfortunately, hated him.

Orange is the color of hatred

Jumin knew this from reading about flowers a while back. The orange rose signifies hatred. As did the orange lily. It was only fair that he hated the color back. But, Zen looked strangely nice like that. His cravat shifted slightly in the wind. He turned to look at Jumin, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and letting out a puff of smoke. 

“Why are you here?” He asked. There was less malice in it than usual. Jumin looked towards the sunset. He walked to the railing, resting his forearms on it and gazing out as orange faded to a navy blue. 

“I believe the question is why are you not in there. Why did you come out here?” Jumin responded. Zen turned back around to stare at the sunset. The orange glow of his cigarette was becoming more prominent as the sky grew darker.

Zen’s eyes flickered back to Jumin’s face. “I needed a smoke.” 

Jumin studied the cigarette for a moment. “Smoking isn’t good for you, you know that?” 

“Yeah yeah, go nag someone else.” He took a pointed puff of his cigarette. It was growing shorter and shorter. Jumin snatched it from Zen’s hand and threw the stub on the floor, squashing it with the sole of his foot. Zen scowled.

“What the hell Jerk?” Jumin simply stared at the fading orange glow.

“It isn’t good for you.” 

He turned on his heel leaving an astounded Zen behind him. Zen said something he couldn’t quite catch, but something in his tone seemed less hateful. Jumin decided that was good enough for him.


	3. Yellow

It all started when Yoosung suggested the RFA had a picnic. Jumin had never been on a picnic before. Sure he understood it, once Assistant Kang had explained it to him, but he couldn’t see how this could possibly be fun. He was sitting farthest from the blanket they had spread out, unsure of what to do.

Something yellow flew in front of him

He blinked, pulling back slightly to see a bee hovering in front of his nose. He smiled. It was kinda fuzzy. He watched the bee in fascination. He suddenly heard laughter from the picnic blanket. He looked back over at the rest of the RFA. Zen was intently weaving the dandelions around him into a flower crown. Zen looked adorable. The flower crown on his head was slightly skewed. His tongue was poking out of his mouth as he weaved the flowers together. He held the finished product up triumphantly and placed it on Saeran’s head. Saeran blinked, but didn’t seemed opposed to it. The others seemed to have crowns of sorts on their heads too. Jaehee had a perfect circle on her head. Yoosung simply had a pile of flowers heaped up in his hair. Well at least the yellow mixed in nicely. Saeyoung’s crown defied physics. Jumin didn’t even want to know how that had happened. They all looked like they were having fun. 

That was enough for him. 

Zen looked over at him eyebrows knitted together. Their eyes met momentarily then his gaze flickered to the bee buzzing next to Jumin’s ear. He scowled in distaste and turned away again. Had Jumin done something wrong?

“It’s just you and me.” he said to the bee. The bee buzzed around on the grass a few inches away from him and suddenly shot off. Jumin sighed. Or not. He stared at the spot where the yellow bee was just moments ago. The patch of grass grew darker as a shadow crossed it. He looked up to see Zen rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“Um.. Here.” He handed him a ring of yellow flowers woven together meticulously. 

Jumin blinked at it, before reaching out and placing it gingerly on his head. “Thank you.”

“I wanted to give you it sooner but there was a bee so…” He flushed nervously. “I don’t like bees.” 

Jumin smiled up at him. He heaved himself off of the ground and stood at his full height. “Could you teach me how to make these?” He gestured to the flower crown on his head. Zen grinned and turned around to look at the patch of dandelions. The bee was hovering around them in lazy figure eights. Zen bit his lip, his cheeks going slightly pale.

“Sure, but you’re getting the flowers.”

Jumin wasn’t complaining.


	4. Green

Zen was not jealous. Jealousy, in all senses of the word, meant that you were worried about someone taking what you already had. No he couldn’t be jealous of something he never had. 

Instead, he was green with envy.

Jumin Han had it all. He had the money. He had the power. And he had a family that actually cared. Zen had tried calling up his family today upon Jumin’s advice. It wasn’t directed at him of course, but the jerk was spewing bullshit about how family can learn to accept you and all that, and it made Zen feel kinda hopeful. He had come far enough. Or so he thought. The moment his brother picked up, he had assumed Zen was calling for money. It ticked him off. So he had ended the call right then and there. The rest of the day was spent with a can of beer and a smoke. Damn him. And damn Jumin Han. 

He called him to yell at him. 

“I don’t need your damn money!” were the first words out of his mouth.

“...Okay?” Jumin sounded confused. 

“You bastard. You have a great family and you push your damn ideals on all of us. Some of us have horrible families. They’ll never see me for who I am. They always think I want something from them. That I can’t make it on my own. They’re so damn condescending. Just like you, you jerk.” Zen was beginning to wonder why Jumin hadn’t hung up yet. The jerk probably had him on speakerphone as he worked. “Do you enjoy tormenting me?”

“I do not. Zen, I’m not quite sure what I did, but whatever it is I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. Damn him. 

“Jerk. How am I supposed to stay mad at you if you apologize?” But his anger was slowly ebbing away.

He could hear Jumin sigh. “I don’t have a great family either. My father is a womanizer. My mother was his third marriage. She was only in it for the money. She got what she wanted. My father moved on to other women.”

“But your father won’t abandon you.” Zen pointed out. He suddenly felt like crying. 

Jumin was silent, but that silence was answer enough. Zen let out wry chuckle. He couldn’t cry now. Jumin would never let him live it down. 

“Thanks for the talk.” Zen muttered bitterly.   
“Zen. For what it’s worth, family isn’t always in blood.” The call ended, leaving Zen to decipher what he meant. He probably was talking about the RFA. 

But if Zen took it to mean that Jumin cared for him, no one would know, would they?


	5. Blue

Zen decided that Jumin looked best in navy blue. Like the suit he was wearing to the party. And immediately hated himself for thinking that. Why the hell was he thinking that? He didn’t care about what the Trust Fund Jerk wore. Honestly. He really didn’t care.

But damn he looked good in that suit.

He threw himself into chatting with the partygoers, mingling with the crowd. Flashing his charming smile at the ladies who swooned around him. But somehow his eyes were always drawn to Jumin in that navy blue suit. Once, he thought their eyes met. He immediately glanced away. What the hell was wrong with him today? He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of the man. He needed a drink. Maybe two. He glanced back at Jumin again. Their eyes definitely met. He scowled. 

This was turning into a game

How many times could Zen sneak glances at Jumin without anyone noticing? So far it had been twenty three times. His head hurt. Maybe he had too many beers. He turned back around to see Jumin walking towards him. Had he been caught? He grabbed another glass and chugged it before setting it down on the table. 

“How many drinks have you had?” Damn you trust fund. Always nagging. It was fucking annoying. 

“Why do you care?” His words were slurred and Jumin’s brows furrowed. 

“Bartender, how many drinks has he had?” Ten drinks apparently. 

“Hey, hey bartender, put it all on his tab.” Zen said, leaning on the counter. To his surprise, Jumin didn’t protest. He simply paid the man and pulled Zen up by the arm. 

“Come on, you’re leaving.” Jumin muttered, dragging him towards the exit.

Zen gritted his teeth. What a jerk. “Hey Jerk! Just because you look all hot in your navy blue suit doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.” Zen tried to dig his heels into the ground but he couldn’t seem to muster the strength. 

“You’re embarrassing yourself and the RFA, Zen.” Jumin replied. Zen couldn’t help but notice the faint blush dusting the other man’s cheeks. Huh. That was new. But before he could comment on it, he was shoved into a limousine and the door was slammed shut. 

Zen watched Jumin walk away. He actually looked kinda cute when he blushed. Zen sighed and cradled his aching head in his hands. He needed sleep.


	6. Purple

What do you get for the man who has it all? Zen had never gotten Jumin anything for his birthday. Jumin never really made a big deal out of it. He was satisfied with the RFA’s wishes. But just this once, Zen wanted to get him something. Jumin had helped him when he was at his lowest. No matter what he thought before, the man wasn't half bad. 

Which brought him back to his question:. What do you get for a man who has everything?

As a last resort, he had found himself in a shop that hand knitted scarfs. He picked out a simple purple one. The color would suit Jumin nicely. Did Jumin even wear anything other than suits? Whatever. Zen asked the cashier to bag it, too busy thinking about Jumin to notice her gaping at him. He grabbed the bag and left. 

Jaehee seemed surprised to see him there. Understandable. He never really came to see Jumin after their contract ended. “Is the jerk here?”

“Mr. Han is in his office… Zen is that a present?” Zen bit his lip. 

“Well, he.. I.. yes.” He felt like his voice growing smaller with every word. 

Jaehee cleared her throat. “Well, go on in.”

Jumin was sitting at his desk, pen in hand. He looked up when Zen walked in, his face betraying no emotion, except for a simple eyebrow raise. Even his eyebrow raises were elegant. What the hell? Zen set the present down on his desk on top of the files he was reviewing. 

“Happy Birthday, Je-” He cut himself off, swallowing the rest of the word. He really meant it. Adding jerk on the end would make it sound insincere. “Um. Yeah. Happy Birthday.” 

Jumin tore open the packaging. “A scarf? You realize I could buy a hundred of these.” 

Zen felt anger bubbling in his gut. Damn it all. He had spent an entire day, skipping out on rehearsals to get this asshole a present and he couldn’t appreciate it. “You know what, fuck you! I spent so much time trying to find something for you, to show you that I was glad that you helped me and you just treat it like some mundane thing! You’re a jerk! A fucking jerk!” 

He felt like a teenager all of a sudden. Why the hell did he feel like crying? He turned on his heel and marched out to preserve the last shred of dignity he could salvage. He ignored Jumin calling his name. He ignored Jaehee’s worried glance. He walked home, hands shoved in pockets and kicking at the pebbles in the sidewalk. 

Damn Jumin. Damn me. And damn that purple scarf.  
He slept the entire evening, like an upset child. What the hell was he so mad about? He wasn’t quite sure himself. It was obvious that Jumin wouldn’t appreciate his gift from the get-go. He should have expected it. He logged into the messenger after waking up. Jaehee was on him in an instant. 

Jaehee Kang: Did you give Mr. Han a purple scarf?  
ZEN: …. Good evening to you too Jaehee.  
Jaehee Kang: Did you or did you not?  
ZEN: I did. He didn’t care about it so if you found it in the trash, just leave it there.   
Jaehee Kang: Didn’t care about it? Zen, He wore it over his suit the entire day.  
Jaehee Kang: It was horrifying.  
Jaehee Kang: It didn’t go with his suit at all.

Zen stifled a laugh, his heart fluttering at the thought of Jumin wearing his gift the entire day. He sees he had received one text message from the man. It was simple, but enough to send Zen over the moon.

I love the scarf. Thank you.


	7. White and Black

Zen was fed up with Jumin not participating in RFA activities. The whole group had come to the fair to have fun, but the businessman had instead opted to lean against his limo, wearing that hideous black and white pinstripe suit, checking his watch as if he had somewhere he’d rather be. Zen would not stand for it. So he took matters into his own hands. He was going to force Jumin Han to have fun. This decision, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that Zen wanted to spend the day with him. Zen strode over and grabbed Jumin by the wrist, tugging him off of the car. 

“Come on Trust Fund! Let’s go!”

Jumin stumbled forward in surprise. “Where?”

Zen rolled his eyes. “The fair, dumbass. Where else? Come on, you looked really lonely back there and it was ruining my mood.”

Jumin chuckled, and the actor immediately felt the blush creep up his cheeks. Ah fuck. He had a nice laugh. He whipped his head around quickly to hide it, his hand sliding from Jumin’s wrist to fit perfectly in the other man’s hand. His hand was so warm. God, what was he doing. He immediately let go, and missed his warmth almost immediately. He wove through the crowd hoping that Jumin could keep up.

And very glad that his hair was long enough to hide the back of his blushing neck. 

Jumin, did not keep up. Somewhere along the line, Zen had lost the businessman in the crowd. Momentary terror shot through him. And then disappointment. He was a grown man. He could handle himself. Zen’s heart felt kinda heavy. He really was looking forward to spending the day with the man. And then he felt angry about feeling sad. It was obvious Jumin only came because he dragged him. He sighed and was about to stalk off towards the ferris wheel, when he was met with a familiar face. 

Jumin han was holding two soft serve ice cream cones. He actually looked nervous, standing up kinda stiff as he held out the black vanilla one to the actor. Zen took it and smiled at Jumin, who smiled back in return. He really did have a cute smile. 

“You should smile more often.” Zen blurted out. His cheeks immediately flushed in embarrassment. 

Jumin took a lick of his white vanilla ice cream. “Why?”

“It makes you look like less of a jerk.” Jumin looked hurt, and Zen immediately wished he could retract his words. Instead, he dragged him towards the ferris wheel, hoping he still had time to fix this. 

The line was incredibly long. By the time they had reached the front, the sun was beginning to set. They had been bickering the entire time, Jumin suggesting he could pay to get to the front of the line, and Zen insisting that that was a dick move to the people in front of them. It then turned into a full blown fight, Zen detailing everything that pissed him off about the other man and Jumin pointing out every single one of Zen’s faults. Their fight was interrupted by the conductor showing them to the last chair and telling them to pull the bar over their laps. The ride to the top was silent. Too silent. 

Finally Jumin spoke up. “If I’m a jerk, why did you want to spend today with me?”

Zen froze. He sounded so hurt. They had said a lot of things that hurt. He needed to fix this, fast. “You… you’re not a bad person Jumin. I’m just scared.”

“Scared? Of me?” Zen looked down at his feet, dangling over fair. They had reached the top. He wasn’t afraid of Jumin. He was more afraid of his feelings. He didn’t know how to convey them. 

He shook his head slowly. “Not.. not that..”

He peeked up at Jumin’s face. He looked confused, and sad too. The same look he had when he was watching his play. The wheel made its descent as Zen watched the sky turn an orangish hue. He remembered the way Jumin had stomped out his cigarette for him. He remembered how cute Jumin had looked in a flower crown. How he had comforted him when he was sad. The butterflies he felt when he was wearing that suit. He remembered the purple scarf he had paraded around the office in. And the smile he had, when holding those ice cream cones. 

Suddenly, he didn’t feel scared anymore. The wheel had almost reached the bottom, and Zen grabbed him by the hideous black and white pinstripe shirt and kissed him. He tasted like vanilla ice cream. It was an incredible feeling, like he was flying and falling at the same time. It took him far too long to realize something about this wasn't what he had expected. 

Jumin was kissing back. 

The actor pulled away breathlessly, a shaky grin on his face. “I don’t think I’m scared anymore.”

Jumin swallowed and straightened out his shirt, a faint smile on his lips. The ferris wheel reached the bottom and Jumin removed the bar, stepping off. Zen got off next to him, feeling extremely bashful as the weight of what he had done hit him. He had just kissed Jumin Han. Suddenly, he felt a warm hand intertwine with his own. He looked up slightly to see Jumin smiling a full on smile. Zen’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“You really should smile more.” Zen said softly. 

“Why?” Jumin replied, his eyes searching Zen’s gaze.

Zen gave him the answer he wanted to give from the start. 

“It makes you look more beautiful.”

And in that moment, the whole world seemed to burst into color.


End file.
